The Immortal Jewel Trilogy Book One: Blood Lips
by madasmonty
Summary: "My name is Anna Sackville-Bagg. I am a vampire. That is the truth. But the uses of the word vampire, stories of my kind, are not entirely correct..." Anna Sackville-Baggs history. Book One of the Immortal Jewels Trilogy. Complete.
1. The Burning of a Witch

**The Immortal Jewels Trilogy**

**Book One: Blood Lips**

Chapter I

The Burning of a Witch

'This is the burning of Anna Sackville-Bagg. She has been using the aid of Satan to lure innocent souls of the Lord into dark beasts who drink blood to continue their legacy. In the eyes of the Lord, may you pull the flames around her to make the burning all the more painful.' The Priest finished his speech.

Anna was pretty by anyone's standards. Her skin was pale and her hair was straight and blonde. Unfortunately her beautiful hair had been brutally chopped because it'd burn too fast. The fire was lit around her and instead of screaming she laughed. The Priest and crowd stared in horror. She was now surrounded by the fire and was totally unscathed and still screaming with laughter. Suddenly her body shrivelled and shrunk and turned into a bat. The hell-spawned bat flew from the flames and towards the Priest.

'This is witchcraft!' Cried the Priest.

A woman in the crowd fainted.

Anna, still in the form of a bat, landed on the priest and said, softly, into his ear:

'This is the killing of the Priest!'

Then she transformed back into a human and grabbed his head and twisted it all the way around, breaking every bone in his neck.

The crowd screamed collectively and ran.

The vampire crowed in delight and turned back into a huge bat and flew away into the starry sky.

That year was 1569.


	2. Fifth Hanging

Chapter II

Fifth Hanging

Anna Sackville-Bagg stood in the long line of other doomed people. Her pale blonde hair and pale white skin stood out among the other people.

But she was different.

She was a murderer.

The others had maybe murdered but not the way she had.

Anna was older than the noose that she was to be hanged on.

She had seen great empires be built and crushed.

She had conversed with Caesar himself.

She had witnessed the crucifixion of Christ.

She had lived through the Black Death, the Great Fire of London.

And this was her fifth hanging.

She stepped up on to the platform and noticed how cool the air was up there.

A little boy of about eight stood next to her. He was crying because he had been accused of piracy and didn't want to die.

Anna did not cry.

She smiled and waved to the masked executioner. Then she sung:

'_The blessed we may be,_

_You may hang us,_

_Set our spirits free!  
But we will sing on forever more the tale of what you've done,_

_Our bones will sing after we've been hung._

_No noose shall stop us singing,_

_Our voices will light the sky!_

_And when we meet Lord Jesus up on high,_

_We will go through the gates to greater good,_

_And leave behind the executioner in the black hood._

_You will kill and people you'll enslave,_

_But we will sing from beyond the grave.'_

Anna knew she would not see Lord Jesus again, though she'd seen his crucifixion, she didn't believe in the folly of Heaven.

The ropes were put around their necks, the lever was pulled and the trapdoors swung open so Anna and many others hung by the ropes and broke their necks.

Late that night a girl with midnight black hair and pale white skin, hung earlier that day, climbed of the pile of dead bodies and walked away into the starry night.

There have been reports of a huge bat flying across the sky that night.

The year was 1687.


	3. The Last of Her Kind

Chapter III

The Last of her Kind

My name is Anna Sackville-Bagg. I am a vampire. That is the truth. But the uses of the word vampire, stories of my kind, are not entirely correct. I do not burn up under direct sunlight. Indeed I find the sunlight annoying but I don't turn to ashes when I'm in the sunlight. I do not turn into a wolf at will (although wolves and all predators are my friends). But I can become a bat. I am stronger and faster than any mortal can ever dream to be. I also can read minds. As for blood: The whole subject fascinates me. For how is it that a creature as strong and independent as I cannot survive without it? How can I run at the speed of cheetah and read minds like an open book with this red liquid? And yet when I have not been sustained with this I die!

I have lived for centuries. I was born at around 1 month A.D. I have seen great civilisations fall and be rebuilt. I have had great many friends and an even greater number of enemies. And, yes, I have killed.

The moment is pregnant with anxiety even for me. I have lived for hundreds of years and yet I have never met one as irksome and stupid as Priest John Barrow Beech.

He is the village Priest and is currently on a witch-hunt. He is the hunter. I am the witch.

I find humanity's ignorance so utterly confusing and of course amusing. How can they ignore the fact that a vampire is living among them despite people going missing every night and never returning alive? They blame the deaths on sorcery and witchcraft. There are no witches in this village of Ratnam. I would have smelt them a mile off and not come here. Witches and vampires have a bad history. Somehow they linked the deaths back to me. I'm sure it's got nothing to do with the fact I never attend church, I'm often seen late at night skulking around and I burn a black candle in my window when praying to the Vampire Gods.

I am currently sitting in the hollow of an oak tree. The oak is sacred to the religious idiots of The Ratnam Village Church for some reason and they cannot harm anyone holding any oak. In a way it is like the old tradition of receiving shelter and food in the church when on the run. So I have taken refuge in this oak so as to make sure he and his army of religious villagers wishing to rid Ratnam of the plague of "the witch".

With my extremely sensitive hearing I hear John Beech calling to all his little tin soldiers that this rain is sorcery and has been made to deter them from their mission. They must press on for the love and light of the Lord! I hear them yell "Hooray!" and crash through the under-growth.

The crashing and banging suddenly stop. I look up to see John and the men standing before me staring.

'I see you are here.' Says one insignificant man among the group.

'I see humans have not lost their capacity to state the obvious.' I quip.

'You speak of us as if we are a different race to you.' John realises, 'This only proves you have been mixing with magic and dabbling with dark arts.'

I laugh at his utter ignorance. 'You have got me wrong, Priest. I am not a witch but indeed a vampire.'  
'A…what?' Gasps another of the men in the group.

'A vampire. A blood sucker. A creature of the night.' I told them.

'If you wish to live you must leave now.' I snap at them. None of them leave. It's sad when I have to kill so many but at least I won't have to eat for a while.

I leap on one and break his neck in a swift smooth motion. He falls to ground dead. At that everyone scatters. Not one of them escapes. Eventually they are all dead or dying except one.

The Priest John Barrow Beech stands among his dead comrades and stares at me as if disbelieving to this act of monstrosity and strength and speed.

'John.' I say to him, 'I have seen a great many things in my long life but I have never, ever, come across one as atrocious and annoying and arrogant as you.'  
'I'm glad I was such a hindrance.' States John with a smile. He thinks there's nothing to be afraid of. He knows he will die soon.

He does not know that there are worse things than death.

'Why don't you run away now John?' I ask him, not sarcastically for I'm actually confused. 'You could run back to your little cosy village and look upon this night as a long-ago nightmare.'

'I cannot run for I am standing with God on my side and He wishes me to rid Ratnam of your evil.'

'Oh really?' I say, I admire his courage and faith. Although what good is faith in the cold unforgiving eyes of a vampire?

I am suddenly struck with an idea. I am one of the last of my kind. I am in need of an equal. I need another vampire.

The man standing before me would make a great vampire if he just learnt to curb his annoying ways.

But I'd take everything from him in making him a vampire: His love, his family, his friends, his job and his faith. I'd take his life.

Yet I wanted another of my kind. I was so alone. John would make a good vampire. I'd made my choice. Only now I'd need to seduce him.

"John," I whispered, "It doesn't have to be this way. I don't have to hurt you."  
He looked unsettled at my change.

"What trickery is this?" He demanded but I could tell he was beginning to waver.

I walked slowly over to him and grabbed his shoulders. I threw his head back with one push and then bit down on his neck. The bite contained Vampire Venom, the poison used to turn one into a vampire.

He fell in a slump. To an onlooker it would seem he was as dead as those were around him. He would remain that way for several hours.

I was exhausted. I crawled back into the hole in the oak tree where this had all began and fell into a deep sleep.

I knew John Beech would not be pleased with what I'd done to him.

He'd probably try to kill me and a vampire's only match is another vampire.

That wouldn't actually be too bad: I hadn't had competition in years.

I was honestly too weary to care. I wanted to let someone else be the shadow in the night. I wanted to let someone else be everyone's nightmare.

I wanted let someone else to be the last vampire.


End file.
